


For the best (I'm better with you.)

by katasstropheee



Category: Charmed (TV 2018)
Genre: Canon Continuation, F/M, Gen, Heavy Angst, I'm not a fan of Harry's plan either, My interpretation of future events, Post-Episode: s01e19 Unsafe Space
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:07:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 21,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23959669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katasstropheee/pseuds/katasstropheee
Summary: Risk. That word had been thrown around all night.---Post 2x19. Macy, Harry and the sisters dealing with the aftermath of Harry's decision. (There's no mind tampering here, I promise.)[COMPLETE]
Relationships: Harry Greenwood/Macy Vaughn
Comments: 64
Kudos: 88





	1. Chapter 1

Maggie didn’t sleep that night. Her mind was fuelled with so many new emotions, both her own and Macy’s.

She was unused to her new powers. There had been barely two days since she discovered the extension of her old abilities. To channel emotions like that, it didn’t seem possible. Or humane. She found it hard enough to deal with her own head at times. She didn’t want the responsibility of everyone else’s thoughts on top of that.

She paced the hallway, letting her own thoughts run and gather into categories she could manage. At that moment she need only worry about one. And it was currently on the other side of the door. She wanted nothing more than to kick that door down and storm inside, but she knew she needed to wait for the right moment.

In the meantime, she recalled her conversation with Harry. The one that left her unable to sleep.

~

“You can’t be serious Harry.”

“I am a risk to your safety. To your sister’s safety.”

“And this? This isn’t a risk?”

Harry groaned, an arm leaning precariously over the stone arch of the fireplace. He was close enough to feel the flames scolding his skin. It was the least he deserved for asking so much of Maggie. “I promise you Margarita, I am consenting to whatever you have to do.”

“Screw my consent Harry.” She was standing behind the arm chair starring daggers into Harry’s back. He refused to look at her, and she knew why. “What about Macy’s? It would be her emotions I’m playing with, not just yours.”

“Macy would understand.”

She clutched the fabric of the chair tightly. Right now she wanted nothing more than to slam Harry to the floor, to slam some sense into him. But he had been flogged enough tonight. Between the return of Jimmy and the tension with Elder Celeste, not to mention the danger escalating at Safe Space and just outside the walls of where all magic was kept hidden, barely protected….. yes, tensions were high for everyone. “Maybe she would. But she’s changed Harry. She remembers how it feels to have a part of her shut away. Did-did you even _think_ of her before asking me this?”

“Of course I did!” he barked, finally turning to face his charge. “She’s all I think about Maggie. It’s a risk! One we can’t afford right now.”

“I get that” she cut in, raising her hands and slowing making her way over. “I do Harry. I know how dangerous a clouded mind can be.”

“I-I don’t want to hurt her” he said, his tone desperate and disorientated. He collapsed into the chair across from Maggie, dropping his head into his hands. “I don’t know what to do. I can’t lose her.”

His voice dropped so low that Maggie barely heard his pleas. She knelt down in front of him and took his wrists. She pulled until they moved, placing them in his lap and using a finger to lift his chin. His eyes were brimming red, as flushed as his cheeks. “Harry, you won’t lose her.”

“But-“

“No, listen to me.” He wanted to speak, but he closed his mouth instead. Maggie clutched his hands and squeezed. A small trickle of magic left her fingers and wrapped itself around his wrists. He felt a little calmer now. He could tell she was holding back on using more power than she was capable of. “Macy is strong, and she will understand. But the power of three needs to be at its strongest right now. If I keep another lie from my sister? It’ll destroy her.”

He nodded slowly, understanding and letting the guilt consume him. “Yeah. I just… I don’t trust myself to not jump after her. To leave you and Mel behind if something were to happen.”

“Well, we trust you Harry” she replied with a small smile of encouragement. “I won’t tamper with your head. You’ll just need to figure these emotions out for yourself.”

He chuckled without humour, wiping his eyes on his sleeve. “Emotions. As you would say Maggie, they are _the_ worst.”

She hummed. “True. Wise. But they are what makes us human.”

~

After that, they had both gone to their rooms. She imagined he hadn’t slept well either. While she laid in bed waiting for consciousness to claim her, there were light taps on her ceiling. Pacing. She figured he spent all night upstairs thinking.

She was glad she had turned him down. Not just for herself. She wasn’t ready to use her new gift to that extreme, let alone to use it on someone she cared about. She couldn’t risk them.

 ** _Risk._** That word had been thrown around all night. In their conversation. In her head.

When she came to from her night of sleepless thought, the sun was shining across her quilt. She rose but didn’t exit her covers. She closed her eyes and focused her energy on the house. Mel was awake and in the kitchen brewing coffee. Harry was upstairs as she predicted he would be. Macy was asleep, her body vibrating in soft pink and shimmering light. She was happy.

Maggie felt a dip in the pit of her stomach, knowing that feeling would change very soon. That got her out of bed.

She was putting on her dressing gown as she exited her room. She paused as a shadow came over the wall moving towards her. It was Harry. Ruffled shirt and sleep-deprived bed hair. They made brief eye contact. He looked sad, but determined. He nodded. At least, she thinks it was a nod. It was quick, and then gone. He continued on his way down the hall, past Maggie and towards Macy’s room. He stopped, taking in a deep breath. Before he could escape the dreaded task he had ahead, he rose his fist and knocked.

That had been two minutes ago. It felt like two hours. And Maggie was still pacing the floor, probably leaving indentations where there were once none. She felt each vibration through the wall, letting the two of them have their privacy, but still being aware of their emotions. She would jump in if it got too loud.

For now, she waited until she knew she’d be needed…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first chapter of... well i don't know how many. This is my first multi-chapter story, so consider me nervous af. Hopefully I will continue, and finish this at some point, when I'm happy to.  
> This also coincides with an anonymous request on tumblr for some Hacy post 2x18. It was probably not what they had in mind, but I've been inspired, and hopefully this story will move towards a happier climax.  
> Anyway, you can find me @ katasstrophee on tumblr. Feel free to follow me over there for regular updates and screaming.


	2. Chapter 2

The attic felt bare. It hadn’t been used for any magical business in quite some time. The last time he was here, he was someone else. James Westwell. _Jimmy_. A stranger to the sisters. A stranger to himself.

Well, a former stranger now. Since discovering his dark past, his dark _half_ , he’s had nothing but questions. About his former life. Why the elders chose him for this life. Why they felt it necessary to strip that part of him away. Well he knew the answer to that last one, in part.

But he didn’t trust Elder Celeste. He at least knew she wasn’t being as forthcoming as she could be. He wanted to believe it was simply because of the task at hand, but he knew the elders. What they were capable of. How manipulative they could be.

He was standing in the centre of the room. There are small grooves in the timber floor that weren’t there before. I could recall every dent, scratch, patch of blackness, like it was a part of history. Those grooves were fresh. They last time he had stood here, he was someone else. But he remembers it all.

He remembers Macy the most. A constant in his overwhelmed state. Her soft touch as she tried to cast that spell on him.

But it had backfired. And he had almost lost her. Again.

His fist flew out, colliding with the glass capsules and stone mixing bowls that sat atop a small table. The crash was sharp to his ears, but muffled by his yell of rage. He hoped he hadn’t woken the sisters. He took a look at his hand, delicately touching the small cuts over his knuckles. The pain felt familiar, a comfort in all of the confusion that consumed him.

It mixed well with the guilt, which was still there from that evening’s conversation with Maggie. He recalled it in his mind, once again. Clearing other thoughts and leaving the facts intact.

_“Macy is strong, and she will understand.”_

_“We trust you Harry”_

_“You’ll just need to figure these emotions out for yourself.”_

_“Emotions…”_

_“But they are what makes us human.”_

But was he? Was he still human?

A spot of sunlight hit a fragment of broken glass and bounced back into Harry’s eye. He didn’t flinch. Morning had crept up on him, and he wasn’t yet prepared for what he needed to do.

But it was already too late. He left the attic in disarray, taking the aftermath of the damage with him. He ascended the stairs, letting each creak announce his descent. If he was going to do this, he wanted witness. Whatever gods were still up there making decisions where the elders could no longer… He hoped they could see him now. He hoped they wept in his place.

He looked up, his destination in direct line of sight. But just to the left he spotted an obstacle. Maggie looked worn out, slowly pulling her arm through the sleeve of her dressing gown. It was inside out, and tangled at the back. She hadn’t slept either, he assumed.

He had called her an obstacle. But judging from her look, he knew she wouldn’t stop him. She was probably using her powers on him in that moment. He wondered what she saw, what she felt. Was he doing the right thing? Did he have the right intentions? He wanted to shake her shoulders and have her release the emotions onto him. As if he needed a heavier burden.

But all he could do was acknowledge her attempt to try. His nod was swift, fleeting. Her head crooked to the side in confusion. He ignored it. His feet carried him towards Macy’s door. Before he knew it he was standing in front of it, staring at dull wood and remember that he needed to breathe. He took in a deep gulp of air, it didn’t feel like enough. He rose his right hand and tapped sharply three times. A small trickle of blood had escaped one of the deeper cuts under his ring finger. He wiped at it with his thumb, ignoring the sharp wince of pain as he heard “come in.” It was muffled, but somehow still sounded warm and inviting, the opposite of what he deserved.

He couldn’t turn back now. He felt the cool touch of the door handle and twisted. White light welcomed him, and darkness consumed his retreat as he closed it behind him.

~

Her eyes burst open. Nothing in particular made this happen. She was just ready to wake up. A dream left in the dust of her memory, and a new day ahead.

Macy stretched her arms above her head, releasing every ache and crack. She felt pleasant, buried deep in her thick comforter. Her thoughts immediately going to one thing. A single thought. A spark in an otherwise dull place.

Harry Greenwood. Her whitelighter. _Her_ whitelighter. She couldn’t help but smile. She kicker her legs, unable to hide the big burst of joy she felt at the mere mention of his name. At the curves of his sharp cheeks and wise grey eyes full of admiration and deep secrets. She had spent so long marvelling his face from afar that when she finally got to touch it…

Another squeal of delight left her lips. Maggie’s room was a wall away, but she didn’t care. She was too happy to care. She rolled onto her side to check her alarm clock. It read 7.06 in bold read markers. Beside it was a rose gold candle, _cherry blossom_ , and leaning against that was a small photograph. She reached out her hand and plucked it up, leaning back against her pillow.

She remember the day this was taken. It was a Wednesday. The weather was abnormally warm for late fall. Melanie and Maggie were out and about so that left her and Harry at home. It was a perfect moment for calm, for a cup of Harry’s favourite tea and homemade scones. They sat out in the garden, taking in the warmth with good food and conversation. They had talked about anything and everything, and subconsciously they had sat a little too close. She recalls this moment with a fondness she hadn’t realised was something more. She remembers every feeling, every movement, every word…

~

“This is…. Nice. Isn’t it?”

Harry hummed in agreement, taking a final sip from his cup. A small excess of tea slipped past his lips and down his chin. Macy noticed, and swiftly reached out and clutched his chin. She used her thumb to wipe the tea away, lingering for a little too long when the bed of her finger touched his bottom lip.

If he noticed at all, he didn’t respond. He was too distracted by Macy’s eyes; wide and curious and full of every wonder in the universe. His own hands where laid down in front of him; one on his knee, the other on Macy’s. Her jeans felt course to his skin as he dragged his hand up and down her thigh.HiHH

They were locked in this moment. The swelling of distant music playing from a small radio sitting on the porch, and the dancing breeze playing precariously with their hair were just hints of the real world. The one they lived in right now was quiet, and sweet. Full of long stares and soft touches.

“Want to take a photo?”

Harry was startled from his stupefied state. “what?”

“I’ve got this camera. It was a gift from my dad. I rarely use it. Just when… the moment calls for it.” She was looking off into the distance as she spoke. Her hand had fallen back into her lap as Harry’s had retreated just as quickly back into his. She turned to look at him, her smile blooming. “This moment… it’s definitely something.”

“Well I haven’t prepared for one” Harry admitted nervously, dragging his hands along his black cotton leggings. “But sure. I would love to take a photo with you.”

“Excellent!” she exclaimed. She jumped up to grab her camera. Harry turned, watching her run up onto the porch and over to a small bag she had sat beside the radio. He admired the way her curls bounced as she moved. She was a sight he hadn’t beheld in quite some time. Pure beauty, and light, and goodness.

“Okay, where should we take it?” she murmured to herself, analysing the garden for the best angle, the best backdrop, the best lighting for Harry’s fair skin… “Here, come and sit on the stairs for me.”

“As you wish.”

Her head snapped to Harry who was now standing and making his way to the appointed location. “huh.”

“What is it?” he asked, just noticing her expression of deep curiosity. He loved that expression.

“No-nothing. It’s just, with your accent… you sounded just like-“

“Westley?”

“Whoa!” Macy overcompensated her expression of shock as she fell down beside him. She watched Harry’s solemn gaze progress to a full grin. “You’ve seen The Princess Bride?” She placed the camera on a small concrete pillar.

“Of course I have!” he barked back with fake offence.

“Well, I’m sorry.” She pressed a few buttons. A small series of sharp beeps started to ring out when she was done. “I need a moment to take in this new factoid about you. It’s not every day you learn your whitelighter is a movie buff.”

_*Beep*_

“Ah. I wouldn’t go that far.” _*Beep*_ “I simply grew curious when Maggie kept making references I didn’t understand.”

_*Beep*_

“Okay. See, that makes more sense.”

_*Beep*_

“I’m happy I could clarify that for you.”

_*Flash*_

Four flashes went off. Each one of them documenting Macy and Harry as they lent into each other, laughing. They tried to keep eye contact on the camera, but Harry couldn’t help looking at Macy. Her laugh and smile matched in the best way, and her face felt snug as it fitted perfectly against his shoulder.

As their laughter died down, Macy reset the camera. This time as it counted down, they sat still. Staring ahead. Simply feeling each other’s presence, and capturing the moment in their minds as they were in the photographs.

~

Harry kept one of the photographs, telling Macy he would keep it close and cherish it forever. Just as she was.

Thinking back, those months felt so distant. So much had happened since then. Powers had been lost, and gained again. New friends had been made. New enemies had tried to reign. Macy had loved and lost, and _loved again_. It was familiar, but new. She had been in love, and had given herself over to another. But with Harry, everything was new, and thrilling.

She couldn’t help but always flash back to the night they danced. She had never felt so courageous. Or maybe she had. Her memories, once locked away, were open but still too foreign to completely understand. She had time to process them later. For now, she had Harry in her arms, and a kiss that melted every last trace of doubt from her mind.

_Tap. Tap. Tap._

Three sharp knocks at her door. And that early in the morning. Her first assumption was Maggie. Perhaps her early enthusiasm had woken her up and she wanted to gossip about everything that happened yesterday.

Or it could be Mel. She would be up by now. With a cup of coffee and a plan of attack.

No, no. It was too early to think about demon hunting.

No, who she wanted it to be was…

“Come in.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... I'm sorry. That was mean of me. I promise the moment you are all waiting for is in the next chapter.  
> Until then you can find me at [katasstrophee](http://katasstrophee.tumblr.com/) on tumblr. Feel free to yell at me there.


	3. Chapter 3

Macy’s room faces north, so every morning her room is shrouded in perfect, striking light. It can be jarring for anyone who enters her room. So when Harry steps in, he is immediately blinded. He raises his arm to shield his eyes, waiting patiently for them to adjust against the swirls and halos surrounding his vision.

“Harry.” He can’t see her just yet, but her presence is there. The fondness of her voice feels warm in comparison to the sensation of razor-sharp ice prickling his skin.

Macy watches him carefully. He gently lowers his arm, but is still squinting against the light. She smiles softly and sits up, shifting until her back is against the frame of the bed. “Did you sleep well?” she asks.

He doesn’t know what to say to that. The conversation feels too casual for what he has come to say, and the kindness she is showing him feels unwarranted. “No, I did not” he answers brutally. Now that he can see more clearly, he purposely avoids glancing towards the bed.

She’s caught off guard by his honesty. Looking closer, she can see Harry’s eyes – unfocused and hollow. His stance sways slightly, as if he’s slowly losing his balance. “Oh, Harry.” She shuffles over, sitting on the edge of the bed. He hears her tapping the covers in a beckoning gesture. “Sit down. Talk to me.”

He gives in, knowing he needs to sit before his legs give out. He walks over slowly, carefully. He refuses any semblance of comfort, so he sits right on the edge of the mattress and leaves some space between himself and Macy.

She moves over, filling the void without a second thought. “Harry, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t.” There’s tension in Macy’s shoulders at his sudden and sharp tone. He sighs and tries again, this time softer. “Do not apologise Macy.”

“Oh, okay.” She sounds hesitant. His attitude is a stark contrast to the Harry she was familiar with. Yesterday, he had been so open and affectionate. “Well, is there anything I can do?”

He couldn’t help but laugh, but under his breath it sounded more like a sob. “Oh, Macy” he sighs, bringing a hand up to rub the dew from his eyes. “I wish I knew how you could help me.”

“Well, you could just… _Harry_.” Concern flitters in her tone as he feels her fingers on his wrist. “Your hand…”

Before he could pull away, her firm grip was pulling his hand to her lap. He observed her tenderness, as she touches each cut individually. He could no longer feel the sting, but the longing for touch was growing. It only grew stronger as Macy raised them to her lips and kissed his knuckles.

“Ah… An accident” he clarified. He shook his hand faintly, until Macy’s clasp softened. She let go, growing more concerned at Harry’s abrupt disdain for contact. He could feel her stare, and it takes every bit of stability he has to not glance back. “You shouldn’t worry about me.” The comment was offhand, but in the silence of the room it might as well have been a cry of desperation.

At least, to Macy’s ears. “Well I am.” She leant forward, attempting and failing to catch his eye. “You say you haven’t slept. And you’re… distant.” That word stung. He tasted the tiniest dab of blood as he bit down on his tongue. “You weren’t like this yesterday.”

_Yesterday_. It felt so far away now. All the optimism and worry and relief he felt holding her in his arms was fading away with everything else.

Macy wished she could read his mind. What words were running through his mind and making him act this way. She thought of Elder Celeste’s judgements. They had made her squirm uncomfortably at the time. But she had no right to say anything. They were both adults, consenting to a relationship that was no one’s business but their own.

Even so, she knew Harry was still feeling the elder’s influence. Even after all this time.

So when he stood up and put distance between them, she stayed seated. She wanted nothing more than to jump up and wrap her arms around his back. To hold him, immersed in love and safety. But he was flinching at every touch, and he couldn’t even look at her. He needed space, and she wanted to show nothing but support.

But she also wanted to push him to just say what he needed to say.

“Macy.” She sat up straighter, waiting patiently. “I need you to be strong.”

His statement was easy to articulate. But under these circumstances, it came out cryptic. Macy scratched her scalp as she responded. “I am I- Harry, what is going on?” Her thoughts rushed in various directions, expecting any and all kinds of grim news to follow his remark. “Did something happen to-“

“I asked Maggie to alter my emotions.”

_That_ …. That stopped Macy in her tracks. He turned short of completely facing her. His portrait dimmed in shadow as it faced away from the sunlight. “Last night. I asked her if she could.”

There was only silence, and tension that slowly enveloped the room. Harry was starting to sweat, having finally realised how heavy those words really were. He instantly regretted saying them.

“Alter your...” Her voice cut through the air like a knife, even at its low resonance. “I’m sorry. I’m confused. What does that even mean?”

He dragged a long draw of breath from his throat, noticing how it picked up as he exhaled. His nerves were starting to get the best of him, making his hands shake, and his voice quiver in the same fluctuation. “I… asked her to take my feelings for you away.” He shut his eyes tight and dipped his head, shame washing over him like a cold shower.

“Why would you ask that?” she hissed. She sounded closer.

He blinked back into the glare and noticed she was now standing. Pacing. There remained the same length of distance between them, but it started to feel like a wall, instead of just empty space.

As the tension grew, he felt like choking. Loosening his collar was doing nothing to stop the build up in his throat, and before he knew what he was saying, he blurted out; “Because I love you.” Such heavy words now lingered in the air, and he couldn’t take them back. He wondered, how much pain had he inflicted on Macy in that one declaration.

And how much was still to come.

“I love you” he said again, in barely a whisper. He did not deserve to utter those words. “I love you, and it’s clouding my judgement.” Tears were present in his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. He had not earned his sorrow. He finally turned his body, fully facing Macy. His eyes found her stare. Stone cold. A small tear fell down on her trembling cheek. “And right now, the most important thing is keeping magic out of mortal hands.”

Macy couldn’t bear to listen. Now wasn’t the time for rational thought, not after a bomb of that magnitude had just gone off. She wanted him to stop talking.

“I need to keep you and your sisters safe.”

_Stop talking._

“But I can’t”

_Stop._

“Not while I’m putting you first.”

“Stop!”

That last cry was loud and pronounced, silencing Harry. He had watched her pace as he spoke, her mouth muttering something unintelligible under her breath. At least until she had shouted it out, in the plainest of terms. He let the room breathe as the tension that had been building fell to a simmer. She was angry. _That_ he could tell. But the way she raised her hands above her hand in a halting, or surrendering pose, and the tears that had started and continued to flow down her face as she her thoughts and fears raced by…

It hurt his heart to see her like this, and to know he was the reason for it.

“Did she?” Her words came out in a fierce whisper that made Harry flinch. “Did she say she’d do it?”

“No.” He watched her shoulders sag faintly. “She turned me down immediately. She couldn’t bare the thought of hurting you.”

“But… you could.” It wasn’t a question. He wished it was.

The statement was factual. He couldn’t deny that at one point last night, he had considered it. Macy’s reaction hadn’t quite reached his conscience. He was thinking selfishly, because he knew he could take it. What’s another memory wipe? What’s another part of his soul ripped out of him? He was a whitelighter, and that meant making sacrifices for the greater good.

But he was also in love. The elders had a stance on romantic entanglement for a reason. It was clear now why that was. Looking at Macy’s face fall when he doesn’t respond as quickly as she would’ve liked. Getting her hopes up, nice and high, only to tear them down.

“Macy.” He knew any pretence of pleading would fall on deaf ears, but he tried nonetheless. “The last thing I want to do is hurt you.”

“And yet…” She stumbled forward. He reacted on instinct and reached out to catch her. She fell into his arms and buried her head into his shoulder.

As she cried and held on for dear life, he didn’t dare move. _God_ , he wanted to hold her back so badly.

“Macy.” He repeated her name several times. He felt her shake in response. “I need you to be strong.” His words were no longer said with confidence. His voice broke in his throat. “I need you… to let me go.”

_Macy, let me go_.

Yesterday, those words were proclaimed in the throes of passion. Now… they were tainted.

She buried herself deeper, her pleas of ‘no’ and course breath leaving goosebumps across his neck and chest.

“I won’t tamper with my memories” he said. His mouth was buried in her hair, close to her ear. At every word he uttered, she shuddered. “But I don’t trust myself right now.” His hands moved, taking Macy’s face and pulling her out of his shirt. He put their foreheads together, using the connection to soothe Macy’s growing hysteria. “I will carry this burden for the both of us” he vowed, “I just need you to let go.”

She was attempting to catch her breath so she could speak. “I don’t… want to.”

“Macy I’m not going anywhere. I will still be here, fighting by your side. We just… I can’t be your shield anymore.”

“Is that… what you think you are?” She was now cradling his face too, staring longingly, steadfast into his eyes. “You aren’t my shield Harry. I am not yours to protect that way.”

“But I am your whitelighter. It is my job to protect you.”

“No, it’s ours!” She cried, Her hands sliding down to grab at his shirt. Her knuckles were white, and her brace unforgiving. “We protect each other. We- We’re a family.”

He closes his eyes. He ignores the part of himself that wants to say he knows. _He knows_ they are a family. _He knows_ the girls can take care of themselves. _He knows_ they’ve save his life, possibly more times than he’s saved them.

But his sense of duty is steady. He was given these powers and a second chance at life, and it had come with a purpose. To serve and protect witch kind. Until his last breath.

He exhaled, releasing all tension and feeling from his body. “I’m sorry Macy.”

She felt his shoulder fall in acceptance. She clutched his collar tighter. “No Harry, please-“

He kissed her, deeply. He kept his lips closed, even as Macy tried to intensify the touch. He had barely pulled away when…

Macy fell.

On instinct her hands reached out and stopped her fall. The palms of her hands felt the brief burn of the carpet before it was gone. Her insides felt hollow, and her skin was numb against the warmth of the sun.

Her mind took its time to catch up with her body. She didn’t rush it. Sensation came back, followed by memory.

Then, she screamed.

~

Maggie had stopped pacing moments ago. She leant heavily against the wall, occasionally bouncing her head back against it. Anything to tune out the fatigue in her brain.

Of course she was worried about Macy. And Harry. And whatever was happening behind that closed door. But she was also impatient, and she could only burn so many calories treading the length of the corridor.

She should’ve been paying attention. If she had, she would’ve known to be ready. But Macy’s cry was sudden, desperate, and loud enough to pierce Maggie’s ears, and shake her brain.

“Macy?” she called, ignoring any regards to privacy as she barged through the door. Her eyes immediately travelled to the floor, to Macy’s body. She was hunched over, her face buried in the carpet as sorrow consumed her. Maggie felt dizzy as she was bombarded with every emotion coming off her sister, all at once. It was overwhelming, to say the least.

She fell to her sisters side, grabbing her shoulders and letting her powers move freely through her. Another minute of this, and she would be overexerting herself. “Macy, I’m here.”

Macy was choking on every sob, and any words she tried to say were garbled. All she could do was cry.

So Maggie let her. She had managed to move Macy so she was lying in her lap. She held her, and let Macy’s grief flow deep into her. Anything to calm her down. Anything to stop her heart from breaking any further. She had felt this pain before, so she lets its familiarity seep into her bones.

Time continued to pass by, but neither took notice. Not even when Mel had come into the room, having heard the distress through the ceiling.

They just sat there, and let it all go.

~

The sudden rush of air soothed his skin. But the absence of Macy was enough to falter his landing. He fell back, lucky to have a wall there to break his plummet. His heart bashed against his chest, feeling like it had run a marathon without any physical movement.

As the events of the past few minutes began to dawn on him, he heard her scream.

It halted his breathing. His heart stopped. Concern overwhelmed him, and he felt the rising intensity in his chest as he prepared to orb.

But then from the corner of his eye, he spotted a fleeting shadow. He heard it call Macy’s name and race away.

Maggie, he recalled. She was standing outside before he had entered Macy’s room. Perhaps she had never left.

He watched her round the corner and disappear from sight. He could hear her voice clearly through the wails of her sister. She was a comfort in the eye of the storm _he_ had caused. He felt relief at this.

She still had her sisters to brace her. To steady her crumbling ground. She would need them now, more than ever.

With that thought consuming his mind, he climbed the stairs back to the attic. He thought Mel might need a couple of ingredients for a new potion. He pondered if any of Marisol’s old books contained answers to their current problems. He remembers the mess he made and knew he should clean it up before someone else got hurt.

Anything to distract himself. And to give the girls their space.

Right now, he wasn’t needed. So he let them go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was harder to write than i anticipated. Either way, this project was a build up to this moment! and now it's happened...
> 
> From here it's gonna be a wild journey. I think I need to warn you all that I will be sticking to the hacy drama in this fic, and skipping over plot points pertaining to the faction and julian because frankly, i don't want to write about them. that being said, this story will still have some level of structure, and there is a chapter in particular i am excited to write!!
> 
> anyway, the usual is appreciated - kudos, comments, and all that. and follow me at [katasstrophee](http://katasstrophee.tumblr.com/) for regular updates and hilarious commentary. Until next time....


	4. Chapter 4

Since Witch-ness Protection had spun Melanie Vera’s life out of control, she had felt… well frankly, useless. With her powers stripped and living under the ridicule of elders past, she had needed an escape now more than ever. Ironically, this was the whole point of them uprooting one life for another.

Safe Space had provided its namesake when it was needed. Melanie had no obligation to it, but if she wanted to find any sense of normalcy again, she would have to utilise its resources. For her, that meant splitting her time between the gym, the witch store, and the bar. That last one in particular was a favourite.

But since starting anew, Mel had also made do by taking up mundane tasks to pass the time. With an incomplete magical purpose, there wasn’t much else she could do. This has included cooking more for family meal time, reorganising every shelf in the house multiple times in multiple variations, and of course, _cleaning_. The most mundane task of all.

She wasn’t a messy person by any means. She just took to noticing more and more how dusty the house could get without remedial upkeep. She had spent way too long inside these walls already.

But Mel didn’t actually mind that much. After all, with her developing craft of brewing new and previously memorised potions from the vanquished Book of Shadows, the least she could do was clean up after herself. Macy had jokingly coined the kitchen her “lab” one day after making a vigorous mess of unknown gooey substances and scorch marks across the ceiling. From that day on, she made sure every surface was spotless, border lining OCD if you looked close enough.

On that particular day, Mel was cleaning up a small spill of coffee from her third cup that morning. Three cups by barely seven o’clock was not unusual for her. She could swallow each sip, as bitter as she had it, and it would sit in her system for most of the day. Refuelling was just another activity that kept her busy.

Her sisters would be awake soon too, so she took her time making their own personalised beverages – with a teaspoon of Stevia for Maggie, and a dash of almond milk for Macy. They were _creatures of habit_ , a phrase Melanie would normally argue against. Now, she was left with no choice but to embrace it. She wiped the bench again, this time taking some stray bits of fake sugar with her.

It might have been something for her hands to do, but it left her mind vulnerable to wandering. Her thoughts were often outlined by a voice that poked at every small decision she made. So her silences were never lasting, and were often accompanied by noise, whether it be from ceaseless conversations with her sisters and Harry, or a podcast from her earphones when she was alone.

But sometimes, other voices clashed in her brain. One in particular had been plaguing her lately.

_See you around, dark and stormy._

Those words haunted her dreams. She had let them for some time, allowing her mind to be possessed by thoughts of Ruby. Images of deep set eyes and contagious smiles. Her fingers would reach out for exposed skin, smooth and curved, warm to the touch… only to find emptiness instead. When she woke up after every occurrence, cold and alone, she chalked it up to fate’s version of punishment, for wanting happiness that was undeserved. They had created the ‘no relationship’ rule for this very reason, and she had tried to fight against it. So she gladly let those dreams haunt her.

That particular dream had reared its ugly head last night. Seeing Ruby again the previous evening had stirred up memories she had buried deep. Forced to repeat past mistakes, she had taken a chance to try again. Ruby was insistent that her life of magic was over, but even on the brink of an argument, Mel could see hesitation in her eyes.

There was hope lingering in her subconscious. Hope that needed to be extinguished immediately. She couldn’t deal with more consequences than she already had. But her thoughts betrayed her, just like they always did…

_“Noooo!”_

She was shaken from her thoughts by Macy’s scream which, despite having a ceiling between them, pierced the room and shook every piece of glass in its way. Mel took off, drinks abandoned, as she raced for the stairs. She climbed them without complication and dashed down the hall as fast as her feet could move. Skidding to a halt at Macy’s door, she rose her hands, fingers spread, ready for attack.

But upon entering the room, she found no threat insight. _Had the demon already vanished?_ Her thoughts raced as she took stock of her surroundings. Everything was as clean and precise as Macy normally had it. So where was the danger?

Only after investigating every corner of the room did she finally drop her gaze to the floor. That’s where she discovered her sisters.

Maggie was sitting with her back against Macy’s bed. The latter was cradled in a fetal position in her lap. Her hands clutched tightly to the arm wrapped around her ribs, while Maggie’s other hand ran through Macy’s hair. They rocked lightly back and forth, a shush escaping through her sister’s teeth with a hiss. All of this represented a calming gesture, on view to her sister who looked like she was anything but calm.

“Maggie, what is going on?” she asked in dismay. Maggie must’ve been out of it too, because she only now noticed Melanie’s presence. She shook her head, not appearing to explain anything as she turned all of her attention back to Macy.

She felt uncomfortable standing there. She didn’t know what to do with her hands, which were still raised to strike. She would’ve continued to stand there too, if she hadn’t noticed Maggie slowly dip a little too far to her right.

She was quick in response. She ignored the sharp burn in her knees as she knelt down into the carpet. She had caught Maggie before she could hit the floor, and in return had received the brunt of her weight as her head collided heavily into her shoulder. She ignored that pain too.

Maggie was exhausted. Mel now understood why. Her forehead was burning up, but had yet reached the temperature of her hands, holding Macy close. She was using her powers to take in as much of her sister’s pain as she could. Her selfless act had been draining to both of them, allowing Macy’s hysterics to die down to small hiccups, and completely draining Maggie of her strength all together.

“It’s okay” Mel reassured. Whether it was for her sisters or herself, she was unsure.

But sitting in this position was bringing back flashes of memory. Of a fateful night last year. One she had locked away in the back of her mind, being too hurtful to recall.

_Nico_. The night she had (what she thought would be) her last goodbye, before watching her turn to dust. Her sisters had been there to comfort her, to stop her from falling into darkness.

Now, she was doing the same. And she would stay there, leg cramps impending, until her sisters were ready to move.

~

“I have a plan.”

They had eventually moved from their locked position in Macy’s room. By that time, Melanie’s legs were numb, so they had ungracefully made their way down the stairs and to the kitchen. The room had become a ‘safe space’ of their own – a place to rendezvous to after a long day or sleepless night, where they could bask in each other’s company over homemade comforts and confident conversations.

Today didn’t feel like that would be the case. Right now the room was shifting into a cooler climate, despite the warm sunlight that streamed in. The girls had separated immediately upon entering, needing the space in more ways than one. Mel had positioned herself back against the sink, fixing them new drinks to offset the cold ones she left behind. Maggie was seated at the dining table, hands buried in her arms. Her exhaustion came off her in waves and brought an unusual heaviness with it.

Macy was the coldest of all of them. Having cried out everything she had in her, all that was left was anger. Mel observed her gaze, aimed at the kitchen bench where she was perched. It was a stare hard enough to burn holes through the timber surface. Mel wondered if that very thing would be happening, if Macy was still in possession of her demonic abilities.

The ticking clock, which sounded sharper against the silence, ticked its way past 7.30. Not much time had passed, but to Mel, it was time wasted. So she gathered up the mugs, now filled to the brim with fresh coffee, and brought them to her sisters.

“I have a plan.”

Her words hit the room like a loud bang. As Maggie was startled out of her sectional slumber, she wiped her eyes with her sleeve and accepted the drink with a groan. Macy offered no gratitude. She simply took the porcelain mug from Mel’s outstretched hand and placed it in front of her. “To deal with the faction?” she asked for clarification.

“Sort of” Mel responded. “We don’t have much to go on right now, but I’ve figured out a way to get the information we have.”

“Julien” Macy sighed, having just taken a sip of her drink. It burnt the tip of her tongue, but she ignored the twinge it left behind. “You think we can convince him to give up their evil plan, just like that?”

“Of course not. _But_ … I was thinking about his connection to you.”

“Ah” she realised, her smile not meeting her eyes as she looked up at her sister. “So you think with a little sweet talk and a wink, we can win him to our side?”

“Maybe” she shrugged. Her hesitation was starting to show. She could see it in Macy’s expression, and in the fall of Maggie’s shoulders as she sat back and picked up on the conversation. “I don’t think there’s another option. I’ve been working on an influence potion that may give us a boost, but if it doesn’t work, we need to use what we have.”

Macy sighed again, this time in agreeance. “You’re right. Even if we can’t convince him, he’s our best way in.”

“Are you even up for it?”

Maggie’s sudden inclusion startled them both. Macy turned in her chair to throw a fast glare. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Macy, I was just in your head. I felt… everything you did. I know how hard you’re pushing yourself right now.”

“Maggie, I’m fine.” She turned back towards Mel. She felt the presence of her sister shift behind her.

Maggie was now standing and walking towards her. “Forget about my powers for a moment, do you honestly think I would believe you? You’re cold Macy.”

“I said, I’m fine.”

“Bullshit, Mace” Mel interjected.

“Both of you, seriously? I’m fi-“

A sharp snap filled the air as Macy lashed out. Maggie’s hand had been inches from touching her shoulder, and was soon clutched to her chest in surprise at her sister’s sudden action. Even Mel had shifted, taking a protective stance and moving closer to her baby sister. She soon lowered her guard when she got Macy’s change in expression.

“Maggie, I-“ She couldn’t speak. All manner of apology felt wrong in this moment. She took in their guarded positions and was immediately hit with the guilt of what she’d just done. “Guys, I didn’t mean- I’m sorry, it’s just…. _I am so angry!_ ”

Saying those words released some tension from her mind, but her hands, in fists at her side, dug her nails deep into her flesh. “All I feel is… rage, and bitterness. And if I don’t release it, I’m afraid of what I’ll do. I mean, look at what I just did.” She had no tears left to cry, but her eyes still quivered in threat.

Maggie’s fear was instantly replaced with worry. She took just a step forward, knowing Macy did not wish to be touched. Hopefully her being there would be enough to calm her this time. “It’s ok, Macy. I forgive you.” A statement Macy knew she didn’t deserve.

“Mel” Maggie spoke again, turning to the other sister. “This plan of yours, what are the details?”

The moment was not forgotten, or passed by. It was merely put aside. They would need to return to it, to ensure Macy would be okay. At the moment none of them were. But all they could do was take the feelings they had and put them to use for something in their control.

Right now, that was Melanie’s plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a hard chapter to get through. After scrapping and restarting numerous times, i finally got out what i wanted to say. it was also supposed to be longer, so there will be an extra chapter coming out. hopefully it'll be out quicker than this one was.
> 
> anyway, kudos and comments are appreciated. and please if you can, reblog the post i make over on [my tumblr](http://katasstrophee.tumblr.com/). it's a little quiet over there, and i could use the coverage.
> 
> Also, thank you for reading this! it's a mess for sure, but i'm only getting started!!


	5. Chapter 5

There’s a distinct glow when Macy views this memory. It reflects off every surface, like a dream.

It starts in tragedy. A curtain drawn between herself, and her past. Her mother’s voice without a face. Her touch without warmth. They are seated knee to knee, leaning shoulder to shoulder with the shroud hanging between them. One swipe of her finger, and she could see her mother for the very first time.

_And the last_. But she doesn’t know that yet.

Her father watches on from the kitchen. His presence a dark silhouette at the corner of Macy’s eye. Even so, she feels alone. Isolation was a close companion growing up, and she was used to the emptiness that accompanied it.

“Macy, I know the world can be a cruel and frustrating place.” Her mother’s voice is calm, and exactly how Macy imagined it. “But when you feel yourself start to lose your temper, I need you… to breathe. ’Cause when woman like you or I lash out, there is no second chance.”

Right. The bar. Kyle. Or… _was it Karl?_ She could never remember his name. He was just another face in a classroom full of college co-eds. Now? She can’t get his face out of her head, or the fear and confusion on it as he shook the fire off his back. Fire, that had come out of her hands.

She had thought perhaps her father was right; she was just being _drunk and stupid_. But she could still feel the heat burning behind her palm. She traced her fingers over the skin, expecting a reaction.

“And I know it’s unfair” Marisol continued. “But as more powerful woman rise up in the world, things will change for the better. Do you understand?”

“… I think so.” It was an outright lie. The past few hours had happened so fast, and her brain had yet to catch up with her emotions. She had cried, sure. But that was only amplified from the tears of frustration she already had. If she was to cry now - after hearing the phone call her dad made, and meeting her mother - she doesn’t think she would stop.

She was so disorientated in her thoughts that she doesn’t hear when her mother stops speaking. But what snaps her back into the moment is when she removes her hands from Macy’s embrace. “What. Wh-where are you going?” She stands up, following the silhouette and gazing earnestly at the place where her eyes should be.

“I promise our paths will cross again. But until then please know that I will cherish this moment for the rest of my life.”

“Mom…” _Where was she going? Why couldn’t she stay?_ Macy wanted to scream all this and more. She wanted to beg her to stay.

She’s about to reach for the sheet – to push it away, or pull it down, whatever it takes to finally see her! But before she can move, there’s a sudden flash of light, and a loud shriek that sounds like a heavy flutter of wings.

Her mothers shadow is joined by another. _“Be careful with her. She can’t remember any of this.”_ There’s a conversation happening in front of her, but Macy can’t hear it over her swelling heartbeat. _She’s leaving me. Again._ She can feel the onset of a panic attack in the back of her throat.

But then, the stranger is standing there before her. It’s a man – pale complexion, warm gaze, dressed in a fine suit that fits him well. She steps back in hesitation of his presence, but an immediate feeling of calm stops her from voicing any alarm.

“Hello, Macy.”

He knows her name, and he says it with such care and attention. She searches his face for familiarity but comes up blank. “Do I know you?”

“No.” He takes two steps forward. She doesn’t feel any semblance of threat from him, but still stumbles a short step back. “I am not here to harm you, Macy.”

She knows she shouldn’t trust a word he says, but a part of her… does. She’s unsure why. He’s watching her closely, and seems to relax as he feels Macy’s concern dissolve. _But how would he know?_

“I can give you two another minute, if you wish.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

“Mom.” Her breath catches again as she reaches forward. “ _Please_ … don’t leave again!”

“Macy, I must. I am so sorry.” Her hands appear through the sheet, opening and beckoning for Macy’s. She grabs them, holding them as tight as she can. “I will always be here with you, even if can’t see me.”

“I just… _can’t_ I see you now? I just want to see you-“

“I know Macy, and I wish I could give you an explanation you could understand. But for now, I need you to trust me, okay.”

Her mind is filled with so many unanswered questions, but she knows there was little chance she’d have the time to ask. Or if she would even find solace in what she discovered. “Okay, mom. I… I’ll trust you.”

“That’s my girl.”

Macy felt the cotton fabric against her head, with warm pressure behind it. Marisol was kissing her forehead. “I love you, Macy.”

Then the feeling was gone. Her hands released from Macy’s tight grasp with a strong tug. Her silhouette fading as she steps away.

The loneliness immediately returns, worse than ever. She feels her resolve finally crumbling. But before she can fall, there are strong vices on her arms, catching her mid-descent. “There, there. I’ve got you.”

She is led to the sofa and seated. The body that had caught her stands to full height, shading Macy’s eyes from the sheet. Her vision blurs with tears she wipes furiously off her face.

There’s a moment of silence. The stranger stands at attention and makes no attempt to speak or submit comfort. She’s thankful. It gives her time to process what had just happened. She needs to accept her mother’s loss all over again. But maybe there was hope now, knowing she was alive, and close, and maybe Macy would finally meet her. One day.

“Who are you?” she finally asks, as the quiet starts to turn into discomfort.

“I’m someone who helps people. Special people… like you.”

As her vision clears, she looks up at him. She’s only now noticing the distinct British inflection in his voice, and the way he stands – straight posture and arms at his side. Kind of like a butler. Despite the absurdity of it all, she still feels calm. It’s almost like the feeling is coming right of him and surrounding her.

“So, you’re gonna stop the fire from happening again?” she asks hesitantly.

“Not exactly.” From his standing position, he kneels. At eye level, she can now observe the sharpness of his jawline, the smooth brush of his hair, and the small smile curling the corner of his lips. They look… soft, beneath the amber glow of the room. “But I will take away the trauma, so you can live the life you were always meant to live.”

He starts to raise his hand, reaching for her. She flinches back, startled by the intrusion. It doesn’t feel threatening, but then again she just met the man barely a minute ago. She was still unsure of his intentions, even if they came from a sound attestor. Her mother.

“It’s okay” he says. He doesn’t seem discouraged by her reaction, far from it. He has an air of experience that she is only just noticing. “Macy, I would never do anything to hurt you.”

_Suddenly, she isn’t in her living room. She’s in a bedroom. The walls are starch white against a bright beam of light. She’s standing with the stranger. But he looks troubled. His hair is messy, he is missing his jacket, and the blanket of calmness she’d been feeling is now cold, and damp. “The last thing I want to do is hurt you.”_

“You have my word.”

She’s back. She feels dizzy from the sudden shift of perspective, but the warm composure has returned. She lets it wash over her until any semblance of chill is gone.

He is still kneeled in front of her, no sign of impatience in his face or posture. Macy feels an overwhelming abundance of safety with him around, and knows that whatever must be done, will be accomplished with care, and with regard to her wellbeing. She… trusts him now.

“… okay.”

He confirms her acceptance with a firm nod, and growing grin. He lifts himself a little for a better angle, his hand steady as it reaches for her forehead.

“What’s your name?”

The man stops, genuine surprise in his response to her question. He contemplates it for a moment before he says…

_“Call me…”_

_~_

“Harry!”

Macy was shaken out of her thoughts. She recalls moving from the kitchen to the dining area, taking a seat and listening to Melanie’s outline of the day ahead. Now taking a look around the room, nothing much had changed since she spaced out.

The table was still covered edge to edge in maps, books, and spare potion capsules. Her once-steaming coffee no longer looked warm, or inviting. Her sisters had abandoned their beverages as well, favouring a spot over by the wall which had become a makeshift plan board.

They were standing close, too close for casual conversation. She assumed they had been talking about her – concerned from the commotion that morning, the anger she had lashed out with a few more times since they had moved their meeting into here, and her obvious zone out of everything altogether. She couldn’t tell how long she had been out of it, but given how the light in the room had shifted to a much brighter shade, she would estimate that _at least_ a few minutes had passed.

Their concern, while irritating at the time, wasn’t unwarranted. Even Macy knew her behaviour was uncharacteristic. She just… couldn’t help it. If the anger stayed inside, it would build into something much worse. She knew it. They knew it. And it was acknowledged in the distance gradually growing between herself and her sisters.

But now her mind was back in reality, she wondered what had changed her focus. Then she recalled Maggie’s call, and looking over she watched her and Mel’s attention focus on something over her shoulder. There was a sudden tenseness filling the room. She could feel it run over her back, like a cool wave of fresh frost. She instantly knew who it was. She didn’t acknowledge his entrance.

“Ladies” Harry offered in greeting. His voice sounded distant, cold. It lacked its usual certainty and sincerity. “What have I missed?”

He wanted to be anywhere but there. Standing on the stairs, fingers picking at loose threads on his waist band, stewing in unpleasantness. He fought the urge to orb back into the attic, like the coward he thought he was.

Macy’s cold shoulder was enough to have him recoiling from the room, sticking the edges ready for a quick exit. Honestly, he was surprised only one sister was showing him hostility. Both Maggie and Mel just looked… mournful. Somehow, that was worse.

“Good timing, actually” Mel said, bringing the conversation back to something she could control, which was silently appreciated by the rest of the room. “We’ve got a plan.”

“A plan? Splendid. Do you need my assistance with anything?”

“Not at the moment. But we might. You should be up to speed anyway.”

So Mel took the time to get Harry up to speed. They stayed out of Macy’s line of sight, so she had nothing to occupy her stare. Her eyes glanced wildly between the blueprints of Safe Space, her unappetising cup of cold coffee, and Maggie. She stood by the wall, leaning against it. She had her head bent forward into the cup of her hand. Macy could not even try to fathom the emotions she would be feeling right now. A part of her, in another moment of time, would be overwhelmed with responsibility for the pain she was causing. But right now, her bitterness was so sour she could not attempt to think impartially.

While Mel laid out the plan in the backdrop, Macy’s hands started to shake. It could’ve been a response to Harry’s sudden proximity, but the buzz in her fingers told her it was something more. Memories of two separate times were coming together in her head. Both times, Harry was at the core of it.

Once, she had felt safe. She had trusted his guidance without need of evidence and he had been gentle and kind. Now, it was tainted with harsh words and the familiar encompass of emptiness. She was _sick of it!_

Suddenly, her mug was no longer on the table. She heard the crash as it collided with something behind her.

_“Macy, what the hell?”_

She finally stood and turned. Her eyes purposely avoided the only man in the room, and instead focused on the brown stain of cappuccino that ruined the wall and pooled on the floor. The close victims slowly stood to their full height as they hesitated to make another move.

“I-I’m sorry.” To Harry’s surprise, she sounded genuinely remorseful, even if it was only directed at Mel. “I don’t know how…”

“Clearly, you are upset” Mel said, fixing her hair and making her way into the kitchen to grab something to clean up the mess with. “Maybe this plan isn’t a good idea anymore.”

“No, no. I’m fine. I just… I need a moment.”

Harry was a few steps up in retreat when he responded, “Then… perhaps I should just-“

“Sit your ass _down_ Harry!”

Both heads turned towards Maggie, who was no longer against the wall. She had made her way closer with silent footsteps, and she looked vexed. A finger was pointing to the chair at the head of the table. She snapped twice when nobody moved.

Harry jumped, and moved quicker than either sister had seen him move without orbing. Once he was seated, Maggie turned her attention to Macy. “You too. Sit back down.” Her voice had lowered to a more casual emphasis, but there was still fury behind it. So Macy complied.

Mel walked back in with cleaning spray and a roll of paper towels. She ignored the room, despite immediately feeling ill against the rise in tension. Maggie ignored her too, thankfully and changed her viewpoint so she was standing between the two casualties of her intervention.

“I get it guys. I do.” Her response feels genuine. They both know too well about Maggie’s past experiences with Parker, so they begin to soften under her scrutinous stare. “But this… right now, it needs to stop.”

They keep their heads down as their sister speaks. When she mutters Harry’s name with a bit more calm, he glances up without moving. “Harry, what you did was _cruel_. And horribly timed. But it’s happened. There’s no point in pondering on “what ifs”. We need you to stand by if something in the plan goes wrong, and Macy needs you to get out of danger.”

At the mention of her name, he lets out a sigh. Macy caught it from across the table. Despite the bitterness she was feeling, a part of her marvelled at how even a mention of her name could still have that effect on him. It has the same effect on her; sweaty palms and small heart palpitations.

“And you, Macy.” Her reaction to her own name is a little more jarring. “You need to stay in control. I can feel the storm growing inside of you. It’s the same thing I felt when we were trapped in the marble.”

Wow. That felt like it happened months ago, not just… yesterday. She recalled it like a vague dream. No, nightmare.

“I know it’s dangerous to hold it all in like this, so do what you need to do. When you’re ready, we’ll be waiting.”

The conversation was far from over, but Macy stood, taking Maggie’s statement as an exit. She wasn’t stopped as she approached the stairs. She offered Mel another gentle apology before disappearing upstairs.

She left in the dust her family. And even if she couldn’t admit it in that moment, Harry was still a part of it.

~

Harry stood over the sink, eyes focused on the running water. He had wet his face in an attempt to wash away his budding headache, but all it did was irritate his eyes which were developing tears of their own before his own assistance.

Macy’s attitude was not unexpected, but it still stunned him. He did not expect his words would be so impactful, and in _that_ way. He had expected them to offer clarity to Macy, in a time when she would need them. He hadn’t realised how… close they had gotten since admitting there were feelings there.

It has only been two days. How was there this much corruption after two days of emotional, and physical entanglement?

“Harry, are you okay?”

He shut the water off, and took the towel Mel held out for him. The material was coarse against his skin. “I don’t know” he mumbled into it, before dropping it from his face. “I don’t know how to fix this.”

“Neither do I.” She was throwing small capsules of colourful liquid into Macy’s handbag. Harry knew he should be focused on what was ahead. So he shook his head and approached the witch. “Macy will be fine” she said in regard to Harry’s distressed expression. “Just be ready if she calls.”

“I will be” he said, forcing determination past the cower in his voice.

He continued to observe Mel’s packing, letting his mind waver from endless thoughts of what can’t be, to things he knew he could control.

He watched Mel picked up a familiar black stick – a weapon Maggie fancied during a physical confrontation. She started tugging it into the purse, which was half its size. But to his surprise, the weapon slipped in out of sight without fault. He peered at Mel, who had a proud smile on her face.

“Enlargement spell” she explained. “One I made up myself, actually.”

“Well, colour me impressed, Melanie” Harry praised.

She latched the bag closed, weighing the contents in her hands. “Perfect. Now Macy is prepared for any worse case scenario.” She caught Harry’s unsure stare again. “Hey, she’s ready. Whatever happens. Have some faith, old man.”

The familiar moniker was a joke in passing, but the message hit Harry in a different way. _Have faith_. The doubt in his mind was loud, drowning out any optimism he had for the sister’s ability. Right now, even with the distance pulling them apart, he knew deep down he had faith in Macy. He always would. He had asked her to be strong, because he knew she could. There would never be any doubt about that.

Heavy steps could be heard coming from the stairs. Mel is already out of the kitchen before Harry rolls back his shoulders and follows. He slowly rounds the corner and watches Macy embrace her sisters. They hold each other for a moment longer than they should, and Harry swears there’s an aura surrounding them. Light and shiny. It could be Maggie, or it could simply be the power of three giving Macy a boost of power for the mission ahead. Still, he stares in wonderment.

When they do part ways, the aura fades.

The girls wish her luck, and remind her to call on them if she needs backup. She agrees, offering them a final firm brace before moving to the door. Before she reaches it, she stops.

“Be ready. If I need you.”

She’s not looking in his direction. But her words float through the room towards him. He looks at her in surprise, and fondness. “I am” he claims. The confidence he had attempted to have a moment ago grew in response to this chance exchange. He thinks he catches a small smile as she leaves the house. When the door closes behind her, they are left in bleak emptiness. The girls are already out of the room, preparing themselves for whatever may happen. Harry feels clueless. He looks for a sign of what he should do. Like the universe would be kind enough to point him in the right direction.

_Harry._

But he catches her whisper on the wind. He hears her loud and clear, and finally knows what he needs to do…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took me TOO LONG to write! I apologise.  
> There should be two chapters left after this. It might feel rushed, but after the first three chapters were written, I didn't even know where I was taking this story.  
> That being said, I am still breezing over the main plot and solely focusing on Harry and Macy. Next chapter will have two familiar faces in it, and a scene I am very excited to write.  
> Until then, follow me on tumblr @ [katasstrophee](http://katasstrophee.tumblr.com/) for updates and random shenanigans.
> 
> also, please leave a comment with your thoughts and feelings about this story. i would really appreciate it.


	6. Chapter 6

Macy could finally release the breath she had been holding.

As she watched Julien disappear down the dark hallway of the desolate Safe Space, she felt a minimal shift of weight lifted off her shoulders. It was barely anything, but she was too concerned to count her blessings as anything but.

The hardest part was far from over. But at least they were a step closer than they were yesterday.

So much was riding on this meeting, and it had gone… smoother than Macy anticipated. Even with the growing fear and apprehension to Julien’s hidden demeanour, she knew he wasn’t a threat. He had explained his motives in small detail, clearly keeping some clues to himself. But his motivation was sound. After all, who wouldn’t risk something this big to save someone they love?

Macy would do the same for her sisters, and for…

Julien knew this. He tried to appeal to that side of her nature, and on any other day it would’ve worked.

But Macy was cold and focused. She accepted his excuses with a nod and an utterance of ‘I understand’. But deep, deep down she hid the part of her that wanted to scream about the consequences to his actions. Now wasn’t the time for that.

Besides, Julien wasn’t the real threat in this fight. He was just the face they used to calm suspicion. _Because who would suspect the rich and sexy CEO?_

She didn’t want to admit that she had. So instead she watched him leave with one last longing gaze, admitting to herself it was fun while it lasted.

Fun? Were deceit and spite a good way to spend her afternoons? She struggled to accept the guilt she felt. Sure, it was just part of a scheme to gather intel. But at one point for Macy, it was a gesture of mutual interest. Wasn’t it?  
 _Or was it just a ploy to make a certain someone jealous?_ Her thoughts hollered in response.

The silence that followed Julien’s exit was startling. In a place as busy as Safe Space could be, the empty halls and stalls were haunting. She shook off the feelings that were starting to envelope her. It was just nervousness she had built up during the meeting. Nothing more.

“Well that could’ve gone worse.”

She didn’t jump outright, but her heart did skip a beat at the sudden exclamation. She scratched her chin to hide the sudden need to clasp her heart.

“Like, a lot worse” Jordan bantered, flicking a light jab with his elbow against Macy’s shoulder.

She acknowledged his humour with a simple shrug. “Yeah, well we weren’t expecting a fight.”

“I was.” She turned and gave him an odd expression. “It comes with the territory, I suppose.”

“Right. Ex-military. But weren’t you a medic?” she asked.

“Yes” he answered. “In a war zone, even the custodians need to be prepared for bloodshed.”

“Fair.” She exhaled deeply, releasing an ounce of exhaustion from her body.

Jordan noticed, offering a hand on her back in concern. “You should get some rest. I’m sure your sisters are worried.”

“Nah” she replied, peering around for a seat. A long bench against the wall caught her eye. “I don’t want to head home just yet.”

“Okay.” He watched her approach the bench and immediately slam herself down. She leant heavily into the wall behind her and shut her eyes. He cleared his throat, letting her know he had followed her over before he could startle her again. “I don’t want to pry or anything, but I’m here if you need anything.”

She felt a jolt in the seat as he sat down. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Fair” he said, echoing her previous response. “Well, how about… this?”

Behind closed lids, she heard the soft crinkling of paper. Then there were three shakes that came across her senses as a rattle. She peeked one eye open in curiosity and caught the unmistakable scent of something sweet as she peered into a brown paper bag. “Are those… jellybeans?”

Jordan shook the bag again, holding it out an inch more. “If you’re anything like your sister, I assumed you skipped breakfast.” It wasn’t a question, but she still felt the way he targeted the query to expect an admission of fault.

He was right of course. Macy had skipped the most _important meal_ of the day, simply because her stomach couldn’t handle it. After the morning she had, all she felt was nausea. Even coffee, that brought her comfort in her darkest times, did nothing to dwell the deep pit.

But as she caught the scent again, her stomach grumbled. It was about time she filled the emptiness. She mumbled a thanks as she reached into the bag and pulled out a small handful of the colourful candies.

He took the bag back and reached in for a heap of his own. “I’m sorry it’s not more nutritious.”

“The breakdown of sugar fills the glucose in our bodies. It’s like an… instant energy boost.”

“Huh” Jordan sighed. “Well thanks for the quick education.”

“Yeah, well… thanks for having my back today.”

“Maggie called. I answered. It was the least I could do.”

“Huh.” She turned her head to watch his face as she continued; “You’ve been spending a lot of time with her, haven’t you? … Maggie” she clarified when she saw one of his brows shoot up.

He pouted his lips and cocked his eyes in consideration. “Well… uh, yeah sure. Maggie is great.” He turned his head, mirroring Macy’s relaxed posture.

“And?... With the amount of times she mentions you… I just thought-“

“Oh right. Well, no. We aren’t… together. We’re just friends.”

“Is that all?”

“Why the 20 questions?”

She hesitated. “C-Can’t I be concerned about my sister’s love life?”

“Sure you can” he agreed, leaning a little closer and producing the paper bag again. “But something tells me this isn’t about Mags and I.”

She gave him the best glare she could muster, but her blushing cheeks were giving her away. She shoved her hand forcefully into the bag, so hard Jordan nearly lost his grip on the material. “Well like I said, I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Then don’t. Let me.” He shifted, throwing a leg over the bench so he was completely facing Macy. She had his complete attention, something she had not exactly wanted. “I can only assume what you’re angry about, and not estimate it has anything to do with a text Maggie may have sent me when she invited me to join you.” He caught Macy’s shocked expression before she could speak, and raised a finger. “Before you bite her head off, or mine, she is just worried. As is Mel.” She forced herself to calm down, making a mental note to speak to her sisters later. She leaned back, going back into the reclined position and taking another three lollies into her mouth.

When he noticed her relaxed posture, he continued; “Whatever this is about, it’s none of my business. And if you wish to ignore my advice then all the power to you. But take it from someone who shouldn’t be alive?” She peered up at that statement, taking in his sorrow expression. “Destiny means nothing to me anymore, not since I learned the truth. It seems to me that fate belongs in our own hands.

“That being said, I think… somehow the universe is responsible for bringing Maggie into my life. She saved me. You all did. I would just be another statistic on my family tree if you hadn’t stepped in. I… I don’t believe in destiny, but I believe in her. And Melanie, _Harry_ , and even you.” He took a knuckle and brushed it over her cheek. She hadn’t realised how emotion this conversation was making her. She used her sleeve to wipe away the rest of the falling tears.

“I-I must’ve been worse off than I thought” she chuckled.

He hummed back. “No, you’re just exhausted. It’s okay to be. And whatever happens next, that’s in your hands now. You get to choose your fate.”

As she brought her own hands back into her lap, she observed the slender lines on her palms, sketching intricate patterns across and up to her fingers. She could not see her future, nor decipher how anyone could just by looking at them. Still, she felt Jordan’s words seep deep into her mind.

“You’re right.” Her words were mumbled under shallow breathing. He was still watching her, waiting for the dam to inevitably burst. He counted slowly to five in his head, just as…

Macy shot up suddenly, a new found confidence in her wide stare. “I… I have an idea.”

“As long as it won’t get you killed, I say go for it.”

She laughed at his feeble concern. “It’s fine. I can take care of myself.” She stood, stretching out the aches in her back from her terrible sprawl. She turned and faced Jordan, acknowledging him with a small grin. “Again, thanks for being here for me. If I could ask you for one last favour…”

“Hm, yeah. Maybe I should start charging you guys” he joked.

“Just… text Maggie. Tell her everything went well, and that I will be home later.”

“Okay. Just… can you tell me where you’re going?” He yelled after her as she turned and walked briskly towards the entrance of the building.

“I’m going to face fate” she said at a normal volume, not expecting Jordan to hear it.  
\---

She knew if her sisters were aware of where she was, or what she was about to do, they would not be too happy. In fact she would imagine Mel would need to put a spell on her to stop her.

But Macy was determined. She hadn’t planned for this to happen, but in her head she calculated every contingency and had multiple arrangements for all of them. If this was going to fail, it would not be her fault.

Without a key card in hand, she simply swiped her hand over the electronic lock that kept the maintenance cupboard shut. She felt her powers burn as it travelled down her arm and out of her outstretched hand. The red light turned green.

Once in the room with the door secured behind her, she uttered; “ _Descubre el camino secreto_.” The hidden door materialised where once was just a bare brick wall. She gripped the handle tightly, and took one last inhalation of dusty air. At this point it was too late to turn back. The answers she desired were on the other side, and she would do whatever it took to get them.

She opened the door and stepped in. The familiar glow of candle light greeted her. The command centre stood strong and silent. No new lights or alarms appeared on the map of the world at the heart of the room. She sighed in relief. The last thing she needed was a distraction.

“SHUT UP!!”

A large bang filled the air, followed by a sharp flash. A wall of opal ripples lit up before slowly dissolving. Macy had covered her eyes against the sudden exposure of light, and as they adjusted she caught the unmistakable sound of a struggle. There were also voices muddled together, but they weren’t loud enough to make out anything tangible.

Once she could see properly, she approached the railing of the balcony. With the best view of the Command Centre, she soon located where the commotion was coming from. What startled her more was who she saw.

Alas, all her contingencies had not prepared her for the sight before her.

“ _Harry, stop_!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is on the short side. And is mostly here to set up the next chapter.  
> Also I wanted to write Jordan into this because lbr he is a member of the vera-vera-vaughn fraternity now. Poof and all.  
> Anyway, feel free to yell at me for my untimely and messy content @ [katasstrophee](http://katasstrophee.tumblr.com/). I probably deserve it.


	7. Chapter 7

Macy’s face takes up every space in Harry’s mind.

Since she left that morning, he’s done nothing but sit in deep thought. The sisters had tried to start conversations with him, whether to ease his mind, or their own. But he had been unwilling to share anything helpful.

Not that he hadn’t tried. He was just too preoccupied to pay attention to mundane means.

So he was left to his thoughts. And while his attention was drawn to one sister, a part of him kept an eye on the others. Both were still home; Mel had moved to the attic and Maggie was in her room. Both were quiet, but he could feel their restlessness surging like a ticking bomb.

He can’t fault them for feeling this way. He himself was close to exploding, and the only thing that kept him calm, and still, was itself alone and scared, halfway across Seattle.

No, that was incorrect. A moment after Macy had left, Maggie had texted Jordan. She knew there was a chance he was closer than they were, and he had earned their trust enough to be backup in short notice. If they were honest, he owed them nothing. But his kindness, and fondness for Maggie, was enough to give a resounding yes to their request.

He told them he’d call if anything sour went down. That had been four hours ago. ‘No news is good news’ was all Mel could offer to ease any tension from the room. It hadn’t helped as well as she would’ve liked it to.

Harry glanced at his watch again. He immediately scolded himself for making the same gesture five times in a row. He couldn’t help himself anymore. His nervous afflictions were starting to show. So instead, he bracketed his head in his hands and shut his eyes. The image of Macy flooded his thoughts again. His name uttered in a soft whisper filled his ears. He could no longer control where his thoughts took him. Suddenly he was dancing under the awning outside, holding her in his arms. And in the next her head was cradled in his lap. This trip down memory lane was filled with all the greatest hits of their companionship.

But also, the worst.

Suddenly, his own face is there. Only it’s not his own. It’s shaped from a brutal history, eyes sunken deeply into darkness, and wearing a nefarious smirk. It’s like it’s staring into him. He can feel it stirring a new feeling in the pit of his stomach. Rage.

_Hello, Harry._

He jumps, eyes wide and assessing the room. He isn’t there. Of course he isn’t. Jimmy is at the command centre, locked up tight by magical intervention. The odds of him breaking out of it are slim.

Yes, _slim_ … but not impossible.

He wants to panic, but instead he compels himself. Nothing good can come of it. The only way he can ease his own mind is to see it for himself.

He knows the visit will be brief so he leaves his coat draped over the couch. He takes one final breath, making sure the sisters are where he left them, with the same expanse of dread, and orbed away.

\---

He landed in the dark at the far end of the long tunnel. The command center was lit like a beacon on the other side. If he remained hidden and took a quick peak in, he shouldn’t be noticed. All he needed was to see that Jimmy was still there, and unable to escape.

He crept closer, keeping to the wall. The slow dripping of distant plumbing ticked away at his nerves. He took deep shallow breaths and continued his descent.

_Who killed Cock Robin?_   


_I, said the sparrow…_   


_With my bow and arrow._   


_I killed Cock Robin._

He froze. The song he sung, and the way he sung it. He felt shivers run down his arms as his eyes closed on their own. Suddenly he wasn’t there in that moment. He was in an old bedroom, cradled in the arms of his mother.

_Who saw him die?_

_I, said the fly._

_With my little eye,_

_I saw him die._

He shook his head, opening his eyes back into the darkness. The last thing he needed right now was to be distracted. He hadn’t been caught yet. Jimmy must simply be bored out of his mind.

_Who’ll dig his grave?_

_I, said the owl._

_With my little trowel,_

_I’ll dig the grave._

“Oh, Harry?”

Well. _So much for stealth_ , he thought miserably. He sighed, staying hidden away from the man’s darting stare.

“Wasn’t our mother cruel?” he chanted, as a hard bang filled the room. Harry recoiled. “What kind of nurturer teaches her own children songs about death? And at such a fragile age.” Another sharp smack enclosed the silence.

Since his plan was now bust, he took a step into the light. Jimmy was facing away, knocking ancient textbooks off the large table in the corner. Another crashed into the floor. He needed to assume that anything Jimmy did was intentional. He wanted Harry to be angry. To lash out.

He would never get that chance. Harry straightened out his shirt as he replied. “We didn’t know it was about death at the time. It was just a song.”

“No, we did.” He turned, a shadow falling over his face as he gazed past his shoulder. “At least, I do. I remember the _song_ having a new meaning after dad died.” He started walking forward. Harry stood his ground as he fought the urge to step back. “I remember asking our dear, poor mother… ‘ _wh-who killed him mummy?_ ’” He hunched his shoulders, bringing up his hands in an anxious gesture, and making his voice sound small, frightened, like a young boy. “’ _Who saw him d-die? Who will dig his grave?_ ’”

“Enough.” His voice was sharp, and it’s echo pierced every corner of the room. Jimmy stopped in his growing pace, meeting the edge of the magical barrier that kept him at bay. Harry caught the small wall of blue that lit up near the tips of his shoes. Otherwise, he kept close eye contact with Jimmy, unblinking.

He chuckled. “I apologise, Harry. I did not realise his death was still a sore subject.”

“I haven’t thought about him in years.”

“I know.”

His condescension irked him. He wanted to roll his shoulders, release the tension as quickly as he received it. But that would give away how Jimmy was making him feel. He would not give the _demon_ the satisfaction. “Is that how bored you are now, Jimmy?” he countered, hoping his own comments would get under _his_ skin. “You need to conjure up old wounds, just to stay sane?”

“No, not at all” he hummed, appearing untouched by Harry’s attempt at cruelty. “I don’t need past memories for that. I have new ones. Of You, and I, and… Macy.” He said her name slowly, weighing each sound and syllable on his tongue. “Hm, how I waste days away memorising the curve of her body-“

“Mind what you say next!” Harry threatened, taking a few dangerous steps forward.

“Now, now. Don’t be territorial Harry” Jimmy taunted, raising a finger. “I’m not the only one who has thought about her in that way. I know you better than anyone else. Never forget that.”

“Oh, how can I? You’re a burden.”

Jimmy looked away, faking timidity. “Oh Harry, you sly dog.”

“Quit the spectacle already. I’m not here to play your game.”

“Then pray tell, whitelighter.” All folly and jest was gone in an instant. He stood stock still, eyes trained on Harry. “What brings you here?”

Harry wanted to give him an answer, anything that would wipe the smug look off his face. But frankly, he had forgotten why he came there. Was it just to check that Jimmy was still locked away? He hadn’t meant to stay. Hell, he didn’t even really need to be there at all. He could’ve done it all from the safety of the house.

But he had come anyway. He wanted to believe it was of his own fruition. But he couldn’t deny his past. He was drawn to Jimmy, the part of himself he was missing. Every day that line between them got shorter and shorter, and every day he had to fight the compulsion of wanting that part of himself back. He was a new, evolved version of himself. He did not need his past anymore.

Of course, his alter ego would contend to that fact. He was afraid that any reasoning he offered would be immediately rebuffed. Or worse, turned into something sinister.

So, he shrugged. That was all he could offer.

Jimmy barked, bursting into a fit of laughter that burned his ribs. “Well, I-I’m surprised. You got me, Harry. I did not see… _this_ coming.”

“Yeah, yeah. Laugh all you want.” He sighed, moving over to the command console, and leaning heavily against its timber surface. He wasn’t admitting defeat. He could just no longer hide his confidence. Jimmy took it all away the instant he had gotten under his skin.

“I-I’m sorry. I am.” His chuckles died down to snickers, as he wiped an invisible tear from his eye. “I just… I think I needed that. Being locked up like this can be, uh… lonely.”

“I can’t imagine” Harry offered in condolence, not even trying to hide the contempt that dripped from it.

“Of course not. You haven’t spent your entire existence in a jar.” _Touché_. He opened his eyes, turning his head to catch Jimmy’s condemning stare. “You’ve spent your entire existence lying under the stars. What a luxury, compared to the darkness.”

“If you’re looking for sympathy-“

“I wouldn’t want it anyway. Not from _you_.”

“Then what do _you_ want, Jimmy?”

“It’s simple really, and much less distasteful than your tiff with Macy.”

That caught his attention. He stood to full height, his eyes widening in concession with his anger.

“Of course I am aware of your current situation Harry. It’s the only thing I have to focus on all day. Di-Did you _really_ think I wouldn’t feel it? All that pain and misery. It was delicious, by the way. You should feed me like that more often.”

“Do not _speak_ , of what you do not understand” Harry said, crumbling beneath his own resentment.

“Oh, I understand Harry. I do.” He held a hand over his heart, his softening expression covering his vindictive intentions. “I could taste it. I know what you want, more than anything.” He leant forward, as far as the barrier would let him. Harry couldn’t help but lean down too, mirroring his loathed reflection. “You want to forget” he whispered. “You want to erase everything that brings you joy, or pain. You… You want to be just like me.”

“Shut up.”

“No, no. I’m onto something. You want the bliss of absence. Just like the one I’ve lived in my whole life. You think forgetting will bring you peace.

“But you’re ignoring something far too important to be forgotten.” He somehow felt closer as Harry listened intently. “Who will protect Macy when you’re no longer there to?”

He shook his head, sparing a smile in the face of doubt. “I know Macy. She’s strong, and powerful. She doesn’t need me to protect her. And she certainly won’t need you.”

“How do you know that? You weren’t there when we spent an evening in New York.” Harry clenched a fist. “When we danced to her favourite song. When I held her close, and my lips… brushed her shoulder.” His nails dig in to his skin, producing a thin layer of blood. “Perhaps you’re right; maybe Macy won’t need you. But she can’t resist _me_. And when you fall, I’ll be there to catch her. To finally. Make her. _Mine_!”

At that last word, Harry’s calm finally fell.

A small vial of clear liquid was sitting on the table, a few metres out of Jimmy’s reach. If he was able to reach it at all. It was the potion that would release him from his cage, and was to only be used in a _dire_ emergency. In Harry’s mind, this counted as an emergency. He really needed to beat the smile off that man’s face. Off his _own_ face.

He put aside the deeper meaning behind this moment, and grabbed the bottle. Without a final thought, he lifted it above his head.

“Shut up!” he cried. He threw his arm to the ground, releasing the potion. It hit the barrier with a resounding crash, lifting the magical wall that lit up too brightly to stare directly at. The loud sound and sudden burst of power threw Jimmy off his feet. He stumbled back and into the table, bracing the edge to stop his fall to the ground. While his bearings were slowly coming back to him, he was accosted.

Harry grabbed his collar, his intentions forming somewhere between merely beating Jimmy to a bloody pulp, and outright killing him. He was struggling to come to a final conclusion. But then he was once again startled by the man, whose life he held in his hands.

“That’s right Harry. That’s right. Get a _good_ grip. End your suffering.”

He was confused. As angry as he was, he knew deep down this didn’t feel right, even if Jimmy’s neck did fit perfectly into his grasp. But the man was laughing, and showing no fear to his impending doom.

“Come on, Harry. Finish me off. _Do it!_ ”

His incitement for violence finally forced Harry out of his trance. He loosened his grip on the man’s throat, but kept it firm on his shirt. Now he needed to worry about keeping Jimmy at bay, seeing as how he now had a chance of escape, thanks to his stupidity.

He gazed deep into Jimmy’s eyes, that were now starting to fill with real tears. His desperation grew as he muttered ‘kill me’ over and over beneath his breath. A part of him wanted to comply, if only to give himself some peace at last. But was the ‘himself’ he referred to really _himself_ , or the part of him he held in his steady grip?

“Harry, stop!”

Before he could contemplate his actions, he was flying. His back arched at the sudden push that seamlessly came out of nowhere, and he lost his breath the moment he hit the floor. His shoulder ached as he landed harshly on his side.

He was out of sync with his surroundings, so he concentrated on what he could focus on. He drew in a deep breath, attempting to the rapid increase of his heart rate. He closed his eyes, waiting for the dizziness in his brain to stop. His fingers stretched out, soothed by the cool marble he touched beneath him. That was all he could feel in that moment.

But not a second later, he was being lifted. Someone braced his arms tightly and laid him back on a cushioned, and inclined surface. For a brief instance, he thought it might be Jimmy. But that would be wrong. Whoever held him did so with care, and affection.

His ears popped, as sound came back to him. There was a harsh pounding somewhere in the distance, but his focus was altered when a new voice spoke up.

“Harry. Can you hear me?”

His tongue was glued to the bridge of his mouth. He moved his head, attempting to nod, and quickly shut his eyes again when that brought back the nausea.

“Ok, good” the voice sighed in relief. “I’m sorry.” The words felt heavy, and full of context Harry couldn’t quite fathom.

It took another moment to bring himself back into full consciousness. Once he was able to, he started to stand. The hands that were holding him down, helped to steady him, as he rose onto his feet. He stumbled a little, and was grateful to have someone to lean on. The room was finally still, and he could finally look into his attendant’s eyes and thank them for their help.

Macy looked back. He was aware of their closeness now, more than he had been. And he was aware of the way she braced his elbow, and kept a hand clutched to the base of his back. After everything that happened that morning, how could she _stand_ to be next to him?

His thoughts were quickly shut down as another bombardment of bashes filled the room. They looked away from each other, startled back into reality. Jimmy was still present, and pissed. He banged against the force field that Macy must’ve put back in place while he was out of it. He yelled in frustration, throwing daggers with his stare in Harry’s direction.

“You should’ve killed me, Harry. You _should’ve killed me!_ ”

Macy’s grip tightened. She shifted forward protectively, taking the brunt of jimmy energy. She turned and gazed into Harry’s eyes, her look softer and kinder than he expected. She ushered him away from the cries, and towards the darkness of the hall. Slowly they moved away from the noise and out into silence. He braced her as he limped uselessly, feeling worse than when he had entered.

Fastened to her side, he held on for as long as she would let him, feeling her aura run over his skin. But he couldn’t erase the words that now burned in the back of his mind.

_You should’ve killed me._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it has been too long!! i'm sorry for the wait. hacyweek took a lot of my time, and i hope you have all at least checked out my other stories in the meantime.  
> this means there's only two chapters left in this story. after that, i have a few ideas i want to throw around.  
> until then, kudos and comments are always appreciated. and if you're interested you can follow me over on [tumblr](https://katasstrophee.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/katasstropheee). i'm pretty active on both sites.


	8. Chapter 8

It takes the last of Harry’s energy to orb them back to the manor. He makes it to just past the edge of the invisible barricade that hides their home from the rest of the world. The rest of the way is all up to Macy, who braces his waist with considerable force. Her grip is a bit too tight, but with the current state of their relationship, he expects as much. Or more so, given the harsh treatment he had inflicted on her that very morning.

A morning that felt months away. It was amazing how time could make things so recent, and so familiar, feel so distant.

But she keeps them both steady as they trudge up the stairs and onto the front porch. The small porchlight, that once greeted newcomers to their warm homestead, was bright upon arrival. It must’ve been switched on by one of the sisters. Neither of which are there to greet them on their way in, but it’s late. Much later in the day than they both thought they would be out for.

Harry searched the house for two familiar heartbeats, catching their soft murmurs coming from somewhere on the east side of the second floor. They’re together - lying side by side on Melanie’s bed - asleep, if he had to assume from the soft pattering of their pulses. They must be exhausted, having waited in vain for answers on their absentee sister and whitelighter.

He concludes from their calm disposition that Jordan must’ve sent them word of Macy’s meeting going well. Otherwise, they wouldn’t be so peacefully unaware. Harry longed for that plunge into oblivion himself. But with the sunset painting an array of orange and deep mauve over the reddish timber of the house, he gathered the night, and the darkness would soon take its place. And with that would come a long and overdue conversation. One he dreaded more than the feeling of facing Jimmy again.

“I don’t want to head inside just yet.”

Macy’s voice startles them both. She had to clear her throat to get some deep croaking out of it, but otherwise she sounded strong. Determined.

“Neither do I.”

Their mutual accord was confirmed as they manoeuvred, still held tightly together, over to the small pew situated beneath the main room window. It felt good to finally get off his legs. He stretched them out in front of him, feeling every small tug of muscles as he released the tension in his knees and thighs. His head fell back against the cool tint of the glass with a sharp tap! His eyes shut against the brewing chill of the night air.

With every growing second of silence, he becomes more aware of his surroundings. Of a distant cricket chirping proudly in the distance. Of the glow of the porchlight offering abysmal protection against the growing wind. Of Macy.

Macy sits beside him, rock still. He doesn’t even think he’s caught a sigh pass from her lips. He can’t imagine the fire that must be stewing inside her chest. Even without her demonic abilities on show, she could still be a powerful adversary. Whatever she had to do to lash out and get it all out of her worn body, Harry would let her without complaint or pleading. She deserved it, and so much more than anything he could offer.

His eyes, still closed, fogged his mind over. Sleep was creeping up slowly on his laxed figure, so he pinched the tough flesh of his thigh to give a jolt to his senses. His eyes sprung open at the painful intrusion to his reverie.

The first thing that caught his eyes was a moth. No, two moths. They dance across the ceiling, making strange shapes, circling each other over and over. As he observes their erratic behaviour, he wonders if they ever stand still long enough to meet each other halfway. Or if they’re just constantly in motion, never to stop. Never to meet.

“Harry.”

Once again, Macy’s voice draws him out from whatever thoughts he has, and back to the moment. He turns his head to get a better glance at her, his head still leaning heavily against the window. She sits straight, staring forward at a sheltered view of silhouetted skyscrapers, across the wide expense of dirt that had become their front yard. He misses seeing Hilltowne, with its traditional but charming architecture and rose gardens. He wonders if Macy feels the same way, having to look out at the growing darkness every day she leaves the safety of home.

Her face gives nothing away, but he can see her hands from the corner of his eyes. They are clenched together, knuckles white from the straining clamp. “Say what you need to say” he says. It’s all he can offer, really. He expects to get something out of her – movement, a jolt, some of the building anger present in her slightly trembling frame.

But she sits so still. He’s worried she may not even be breathing.

But just as suddenly, there’s a crook in her brow. It’s small, barely noticeable to anyone who was not playing close attention. But Harry always pays close attention to his charges. And in particular to Macy Vaughn.

“There is so much I want to say.” It’s a start. And it’s said in such bitter contempt. But it’s better than nothing, so Harry willingly takes it.

“I want to tell you… I’m pissed. I’m… afraid of saying something I’ll regret, even if you do deserve it. And I’m afraid… I might not be enough anymore.”

As brief a statement as that was, it put all of Macy’s thoughts out in the open. He now knew a part of what was stirring so deeply in her soul. He could work with this. He had something to grasp on to. He sits up, carrying his heavy shoulders forward till he’s leaning heavily over his knees. He mirrors Macy’s posture, even with his head as he stares out into the night. He’s afraid his stare – open, sorrowful – might be too much for her to handle right now.

Even so, he observes every motion on his left, as he waits for her to continue. It is not his time to speak up. Not just yet.

“I want to hurt you. As much as you hurt me. And You know I could never do that to you.

“But that didn’t stop me from considering it. I think I was willing to let that part of me out again. I still remember the heat in my hands. I miss it sometimes.” She’s looking down at her outstretched palms, turning her hands over and back again. They are calloused, and etched with painful memories. “But I know nothing good would come from it.

“Then, and you’ll get a kick out of this, I thought perhaps I could lash out at Jimmy instead.” Despite being incredibly still, Harry still freezes at that admission. So that’s why she had been there in that moment. “I thought… if I could just hurt him, make him feel the rage deep inside of me, that you would feel it too. Even if just a little of it. God! You must thinking I’m a monster.”

So much of what he wants to say is suspended on the tips of his lips. _You are not a monster. It’s okay to feel this way. You should take it out on me. I deserve it._

“Why were you there?”

Her question catches him off guard. His eyes are still glued to the piercing abyss of night time Seattle, but he can feel the turn of Macy’s head. The stare she bears in listless temper. His mouth is shut, teeth grinding to sharp points, as he waits for something to break the tension. “You can speak Harry. I won’t bite your head off if you do.”

That approval to speak is a lot more relieving than Harry anticipated it to be. “I, uh… I went to see Jimmy as well.” He continued to gaze ahead, but some burden is slowly fading from his body. “I guess I wanted to feel something too.”

“It was foolish to approach him like that.”

“And you wouldn’t have done the same?” He winced, hoping his question hadn’t come out sounding too mean.

If it had, she barely noticed, chuckling deeply in her throat while pinching the bridge of her nose. “Yeah, I probably would’ve. But having telekinesis would’ve made it a bit easier to keep control over the situation.”

“That’s fair” he admitted softly. “I suppose I deserve the criticism.”

“Among other things.”

“Among other things” he agreed, his voice falling to a low whisper. “Okay. Tell me what you need. I’ll do it. Whatever it is.” Whatever heart-wrenching, cruel punishment she had planned, he would endure it for a thousand days. Or longer, if that’s what it would take.

“I need you.”

His serenity broke in an instant. His sharp turn made his head throb, but under the small stretch of light they had, he could see in clear detail every etch of pain in Macy’s face. In her eyes, twinkling in the dull fluorescence. He couldn’t speak, afraid of lashing out himself. How could she still want him? How could she even stand to sit beside him like this?  
“I miss you so much.” Her admission came out in a sharp whisper, quivering under her jittery chin. “You hurt me, and I still blame myself for it. For everything.”

“Macy.” His hand moves, hovering over her shoulder. He’s afraid to touch her. More so, he’s afraid of feeling the inevitable flinch that could come at his touch. “You have nothing to apologise for. I am the monster here. Not you. Never you. You deserve far better than what I have succumbed you to.”

“I know.” She nods, letting the words echo past her lips a few more times, before her head drops into her hands. His own appendage still hovers over her back. “This is… this is a mess. Why must everything be so messy?”

“I wish it wasn’t. I wish I could make everything more simple for you.”

“Then do it.” In a sudden flurry that has Harry shoving his arm away and into his pocket, Macy sits up straight. He watches her resolve freeze, with all her frustration and tears disappearing just as quickly as they had appeared. Wiping the excess dew off her cheeks, she turns and gives him her steadiest stare.

It was the first time they had looked at each other properly since the command center. Neither blinked, nor made the move to look away first. Like deer’s caught in the headlights of a speeding vehicle, they anticipated the collision without thought of the destruction.

“Be honest, Harry.”

Now he could speak. Freely. If there was anything he needed to get off his chest, now was the time. And for the first time in a long time, Harry felt it all. Even with Jimmy’s spiritual connection, he could feel every burden that weighed down on his shoulders. That seeped deep into his bones. That mixed in with the dwindling joy in his mind until all his thoughts and memories were tainted.

He clenched his fists in anticipation for the words that would spill from his throat. “Simply” he began, quelling the shiver in his body by gazing deep into Macy’s wide and affirming eyes, “I’m afraid I’m broken.”

He ignored the slight tremor in Macy’s frame as she took in his first words of confession. He continued; “I was unaware of the Elder’s influence for so long. I knew they were never perfect, and they could be downright cruel with their rules and punishments. But nothing could prepare me for the truth. For their darkest secrets. And now I’m the last one left, it’s all on me. I am the one responsible for their past. For everything they’ve done.

“And Celeste. She made her opinions of it all perfectly clear. And her opinions of me and you were… unfavourable, to say the least.”

“Wait.” Macy’s voice broke the mould, giving Harry a reprieve. “Is that why she had a go at us, when we embraced after the whole ‘marble’ incident?”

He wanted to laugh at the absurdity of the name Maggie had used to coin that moment. To think he would’ve lost the love of his life to something so fleeting, and humorous. “Yes. She wasn’t… happy with my decision.”

“Well, screw her” she exclaimed, her louder tremble piercing his eardrums. “Why does she care anyway? She’s retired.”

“I told her as such” he admitted. “But she still holds the administration in high regards.”

“Right. Once an elder, always an elder.”

Harry nodded. “Even so, I don’t think she’ll be sticking around for long. I told her I would have everything under control. I don’t think she quite believed me, but I think world war three would have to break out before she left retirement completely.”

“Well, it might as well be.”

He crooked his head at her blunt statement. “I take it you’re referring to your conversation with Julian?”

She flinched at his name. Why? He was already delving into several interpretations of scenarios that would leave Macy feeling this way, when she explained; “Yeah. But nothing happened. I mean, he clearly knows now that I want nothing to do with him, relationship-wise.” She chuckles at something he’s clearly missing. “He tried to peek my interest from a scientific standpoint, and a part of me wanted to take the bait. At least to finally have some… idea of what he and the faction are planning.

“But I wouldn’t risk us like that.” She gave him a fond glimpse, a small curve slowly rising to her lips. “I think there’s a chance we could bring Julian to our side too, but… I don’t want to risk that either.”

“Very well” he concurred, staring a little too long, and longingly at the change in Macy’s expression. “We’ll just have to come up with something else.”

For a moment longer than the tick of a clock, it was like nothing had occurred that day. No fight. No secret meetings. No struggle in the command center. Maybe this whole day had just been a dream.

But time wasn’t standing still. And the clock was still ticking. In an instant that moment was over, and they were both turning away.

“I… don’t know where to go from here” Macy admitted, folding her arms over her chest. Harry was starting the feel the numbness on his cheeks too. Perhaps it was finally time to dessert the front porch for warmer climates.

“Maybe we should sleep on it.” She gives him a side eye. Just a glimpse, telling him their conversation is far from over. “I know” he offered in answer to her silent query. “But the day is well over, and our minds have been through enough today.”

“Yeah, you’re right” she muttered in agreement. “We can pick this up tomorrow.”

Even without their usual synchrony, they stood together, moving in gradual steps to the front door. The house stirred in greeting at their arrival. It felt good to be somewhere familiar again. Both couldn’t shake the relieving sighs that escaped their throats as the warmth of the old building wrapped around them like a blanket.

With one more fond glance at each other, they moved in separate directions. Harry towards the family room to retrieve his coat, and Macy towards the kitchen. While food wasn’t at the forefront of his mind, and he probably did need to eat, he didn’t wish to disturb her. He would have his time when he felt the need for it. Right now, he craved oblivion.

But before she had stepped around the corner and out of sight, Macy stopped. Without looking back, she said, loud enough for him to hear her clearly; “I will see you tomorrow, Harry.” How she could say such a blunt and simple statement with so much thought and vulnerability behind it, Harry couldn’t quite comprehend.

He nodded, knowing full well Macy wouldn’t see the gesture. In words, he offered her something simple in return. “Goodnight then, Macy.”

She lifted a hand, flicking her fingers in a delicate wave. “Goodnight, Harry.” Then she was moving, out of his sight, and out of the warmth of the entrance way. He stayed still, listening carefully to her light footsteps fade, then the soft click of the kettle being turned on in the kitchen.

He took his leave then. Knowing they were in a place of settled content would help him sleep tonight, if just to shut his eyes in brief intervals as his mind raced through the scene again and again. It was the best he could muster, even as he struggled to take two or more steps up the tilting staircase.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, it's been well over a month since this got an update. i apologise for the wait. it seems hacyweek, and then charmed month, and then my new obsession with a certain ship from aos really took me over for a while.
> 
> there is one chapter left for this story. it startled off being a passion piece to fill the hiatus of the series. now, i will admit it has been burdening me for a while. but i still love it, and can't believe i've accomplished such a feat for myself. this is the first step on the way towards more multi-chapter stories in the future.
> 
> until then, i hope you enjoyed this penultimate chapter. please leave a review if you see fit. also, i will probably edit this at a later date, so just ignore grammar errors for now. thank you. :)


	9. Chapter 9

The attic is the coldest room in the manor. Even on a balmy summers day, the room’s temperature will have a clear difference of ten degrees. It was quite conducive to keeping potion ingredient’s fresh and potent, but not for sleeping.

Harry knew this from previous experience, having spent many a late night up here. From spending too long demon hunting or researching and needing a place to crash, or as a sanctuary from the night terrors that came from his extended stay in Tartarus. Being closer to the sisters during that time had been a blessing for healing his aching soul.

Now, he was only reminded of a past he would sooner turn back to, if he was able to control time in its mysterious ways.

He was awoken from his unruly sleep by the light of the sun, blaring directly into his eyes. The round window at the head of the room often blinded visitors this early in the morning, reflecting halos of light across the dull expense of worn timber. It was a beautiful sight to behold, if you weren’t impaired by it first.

But even the beauty of natural occurrence was not enough to lift Harry’s spirits. He knew he could be feeling much worse, given the conversation he had with Macy before making his way upstairs and into the desolate darkness. But the cold chill in his bones wasn’t just from the cold exterior of the room. It had set itself in its place a while ago, and only grew more bitter day by day. The more he considered his feelings, and that of Jimmy, and that of the sisters, his charges… the more he wanted to bury himself in the ground. To lie back in the coffin he had been recently resurrected from.

But before those feelings can be explored, or put to use, a sharp crash meets his ears. From the echo and direction of sound, he could attain it came from somewhere beneath his feet. Upon further mystical inspection, he worked out its trajectory. It had come from the kitchen. Without another thought, or waiting for his name to be called, he orbed.

“Harry!” Maggie cried upon his landing. She held a hand to her chest, as if his entrance provided her more fright than the tiny shards of glass that littered the floor. “Where did you come from?”

“Sorry. I heard the ruckus and came to… investigate.”

Ignoring the odd glance Maggie had glued to his frame, he watched as two legs jutted out from the other side of the dining table. “Don’t worry about me. I’ve totally got this” came the warm, and blunt regards of Melanie Vera.

“Right, sorry” he acknowledged in return, stepping delicately through the minefield of glass. Being barefoot, he wouldn’t want to step gingerly on any, even though the pain in that moment would be minuscule, compared to the pain in his heart.

When she finally came into view, he found Melanie on her knees, sweeping up what remained of an old crystal vase. A pile of flowers, brittle with age, were already moved neatly away from the rest of the mess. She thanked him when they were done, taking his hand as he helped her to stand.

“Seriously, Harry. Where did you come from?” Harry had completely forgotten about Maggie’s presence, despite her eyes still gazing like daggers into his back. “Were you sleeping in the attic again?”

Mel gave him an astonished look as she disposed of the debris. “Harry. You could’ve said something. You do have a bedroom, you know.”

“But how-“ But of course they knew. Even without Maggie’s enhanced senses, she would know. He was a creature of habit, as much as he claimed not to be. And whenever he was feeling anxious or cornered, he retreated to the attic. Every time.

Perhaps due to magical symbolism, or from the sheer amount of time spent there, it had become his sanctuary from the everyday hustle, or from his own emotions.

“Harry, you know you can talk to us.”

“I know. I do.” The conversation he had been afraid to have was looming over him. He didn’t want to have to explain himself, or the matters that befell himself and Macy. They was personal. But the sister’s deserved some kind of explanation. After all, they had met the end of the devastation, and clearly knew that whatever had troubled their sister so strongly, had come from him. “I just… I didn’t want to concern you.” He addressed them both with fondness he hoped covered up the doubt in his voice.

“Harry” Maggie sighed, stepping closer to the pair. Mel herself had also taken a beat to step closer. He was starting to shake. “As far as your concern goes, it’s ours too. We’re a sisterhood, remember?” She chuckled softly at the memory of a feather-duster and that one late night in mid-November. “You can tell us anything.”

“Really?” he asked, in all honesty. “Frankly, after yesterday I thought you two would put me out in the dog house.”

“Well, we are angry” Melanie confirmed. If you ever needed blatant honesty, you could always count on her for it. “You could’ve handled that conversation far better than you did.” Ah, Maggie must’ve informed her of the conversation they had two nights previous. No surprise there. They must’ve had a lot to talk about yesterday, while waiting anxiously for news of Macy’s meeting with Julian. “But at the end of the day, you’re family. And in time, we will forgive you.”

_But not right now_. It didn’t need to be said. He heard it in her tone, and observed it in the way she stood – hands planted on her hips, exuding dominance and tolerance over the conversation. He expected worse, that’s for sure. But this? He could work with it. “Thank you Melanie. Maggie.” He turned to the youngest to give her a fond nod in return.

With the cat out of the bag, they could now resume their morning rituals. Harry turned back to the kitchen, just as Mel took her place back behind the kitchen bench. He was now only noticing the assortment of breakfast foods, all neatly arranged on their silver trays and floral-lined plates. He was once again rebuffed by the blatant pleasantness he was receiving, which he had failed to earn.

“Are we having visitors this morning?” he asked cautiously, drawing a concerned stare from Mel and chuckle from Maggie, who had taken a seat back at the table.

“No, you dummy!” she exclaimed, face buried deep in her phone, flicking at the screen with too much enthusiasm. “It’s just breakfast. Now sit on down, before Mel makes you.”

He turned back, giving the sister a quick glance before following Maggie’s instructions. It sure did look like Mel would try to force him into a seat if he didn’t do it willingly.

He was nervous. Maggie could tell. She didn’t need to touch him, or even be in close proximity to notice the way he shivered and cowered away from any display of kindness. He had a long way to go get back into Macy’s, and therefore her sister’s, good graces.

But Harry was a gentleman when it counted. A man of his word. And she had no doubt he would swim the depth of any ocean, or climb to the highest peak of the tallest mountain, or wade through caves infested with every creepy crawly imaginable (well, maybe that last one was a bit of stretch) to earn his place again.

\---

The sun had decidedly given the same treatment to Macy, who awoke to harsh brightness flooding her vision. Her dreams, once pleasant or frightening, were long forgotten. Her bed felt cool to the touch when she stretched out her arms. She was buried deep beneath two blankets and a quilt, but it provided no comfort against the chill buried deep in her chest.

Since sleep was no longer a viable option, Macy stood quickly. She took in the cool air of the morning, stroking her naked arms and revealed chest as she pulled on the stiffness in her back. She had turned to bed quite early last night, picking up the first item of clothing she could find before immediately turning in. It happened to be the negligee she wore after her first evening with Harry.

Whether it was just by some pure coincidence, or if fate was throwing her signs she couldn’t miss, even if she tried, Macy felt the underlining emotions built deep beneath the smooth silk fabric of the dress. It had felt different before. Perhaps because his hands were the ones that guided it up her leg, or dragged the thin straps down her arms. That he was the sole reason she felt like a goddess, straddling his legs, kissing his lips, feeling the low vibrations of moans he produced from his chest and throat.

Those weren’t pleasant memories to wake up to. Not when she was doing everything she could to keep distance. If she had her way, she would be back in his arms. But that was not a decision to make lightly. She had to remind herself of why she still felt so bitter, despite feeling warm whenever his face appeared in her mind.

She got dressed, throwing the nightdress into her hamper without a second thought. Throwing her hair up into a tight bun and forgoing her morning routine at the vanity (yet another reminder of a night of endless passion she did not need), she opened her door and braced for the day ahead.

She was at the top of the stairs when she heard the first sign of commotion coming from the first floor. Maggie was laughing, her highly-contagious chuckles traversing every crook and hall of the house. It felt nice to hear, given everyone’s cold reception yesterday. The last time she had seen her sisters was to embrace them before she left. Their fates were hanging in the air, and the tension was malleable, as she left them standing by the front doors with tears in their eyes. And it seemed today, before she had even entered the kitchen to see their faces, that all that tension and fear of yesterday had evaporated. She was very much looking forward to the alacrity this morning.

She reached the bottom step in time to round the corner and spot a hint of laughter, deeper in tone than that of her sister’s. She paused, seemingly surprised that, _oh!_ Of course, Harry would be awake too.

He did live with them, after all. A notion, even after months of evidence, was something she had not grown accustomed to yet. Even after spending one magical night in her bed together. His room was just down the hall from hers too. Surely she shouldn’t be this alarmed to find him sitting with Maggie and Mel at the dining table.

Or perhaps, it wasn’t surprise she was feeling. Perhaps it was… dread. Anger. Sorrow. An amalgamation of the three.

Whatever it was, she would need to bottle it. Preserve it for a later time. It was something she had to deal with, but it was to be dealt with Harry alone. Even if her sisters would try to butt in. She had a mind they would try exceptionally hard to.

So she cleared her mind, took in a deep breath, opened her eyes, and turned the corner.

The kitchen came into view almost simultaneously with the smell of fresh toast and seasoned fruits. Instantly, her reluctance to enter was simmered to an afterthought as she greeted her sisters in turn, planting quick kisses to their cheeks. “I am so sorry about yesterday” was her offered greeting as she took a seat.

Mel stood to pour her some coffee, giving her a small smile of reassurance. “It was no bother.”

“Jordan texted” Maggie clarified, dabbing a napkin at the corner of her mouth. “Let us know how it went. I’m glad you didn’t shoo him away.”

Macy chuckled. “I almost did. But honestly, it was nice to have someone there.”

Maggie beamed at this, chucking another piece of strawberry into her mouth. “Perfect” she replied, chewing loudly on her food. She caught Mel’s brief glimpse of disgust, which warranted further mocking from Maggie’s end of the table. Finally, things were starting to feel like normal again.

But she couldn’t ignore the obvious. Not when it sat across from her, eyeing her in small flashes as he took long sips from his teacup.

“So, Harry” Mel interjected, passing him the plate of breakfast sandwiches. “What’s on the agenda for today?”

Macy assumed she caught wind of the tension that seemed to be rising the longer the two of them sat in silence. She welcomed the intrusion, letting small conversation and planning for the day ahead distract her from own problems. It seemed to be exactly what Harry needed to, as he spoke in quick succession about what had occurred yesterday, and what they could do now that they had more of the pieces in place.

Macy simply ate and stayed quiet, nodding at a suggestion or comment every now and again. The others didn’t mind, knowing that she would speak up if the need occurred.

Otherwise, she kept her stare firmly on Harry, who in turn kept his firmly on her. It wasn’t guarded, or hostile. In fact, she could see hope through the dull shine of his cornea. And on occasion, on the small quirk of his lips.

They had a long way to go to get back to some semblance of normalcy. But if Harry was able to brave the wait, then so would she.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I DID IT GUYS! MY FIRST MULTICHAPTER FIC HAS FINALLY WRAPPED UP... not as i expected. but then again, this whole story was unplanned. i was just writing from my gut, and this is what occurred. :p
> 
> anyway, thank you to everyone who has stuck with this story from chapter one, or came in halfway. or to anyone who has only started reading this now, whenever that may be. your love and support has been incredible, and this whole process has given me a lot of confidence to, maybe?? try this again someday. only this time i will plan the story out properly so it makes sense and blends well together. i promise that.
> 
> if you haven't left kudos yet, or even a comment, please do. it means more to fic writers than you can possible imagine. and while you're there, tell me your FAVOURITE MOMENTS from the fic. or your favourite chapter. or quote, if you remember any.
> 
> until next time, check out my other fics, and follow me on [twitter](http://twitter.com/katasstropheee) for more updates and overall positivity. thanks again for the readership, and the love! i love you all in return! :)


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